


balayé (prince AU #1)

by eliottamoureux



Series: tumblr drabbles/prompt fills [18]
Category: SKAM (France)
Genre: Dorks in Love, M/M, Secret Relationship, a grand ball & banquet, eliott being pretty, lucas being gay, the usual
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-11
Updated: 2019-11-11
Packaged: 2021-01-27 09:32:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21389953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eliottamoureux/pseuds/eliottamoureux
Summary: At first they stayed in the guest chambers, two beds in one grand room. After the first few times, though, they had asked to sleep in Lucas’ bedroom, and the Queen had been nothing but supportive.And then they would spend their nights next to each other. They would talk about their lessons, their parents, the stars— everything and anything, into the wee hours of the morning. Eliott would tell him about the blossoming young princess that his parents were insisting that he get to know better, but Lucas would be too taken by the glow of his eyes in the low light to pay much attention.When Lucas was seventeen— and Eliott, nineteen— though, something changed.Something changed, and their childhood sleepovers turned into, well… This.
Relationships: Eliott Demaury/Lucas Lallemant
Series: tumblr drabbles/prompt fills [18]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1419991
Comments: 8
Kudos: 149





	balayé (prince AU #1)

**Author's Note:**

> this was originally a prompt fill, but it's also quite different to the way i usually do things! 
> 
> the prompts were  
Secret relationship;  
& Both going to grab the same thing and touching hands, then making eye contact.
> 
> up until this point my prompt fills were all— at most— minor AUs, but this is the furthest from canon i've ever gone, and i had the _best_ time doing it. since then, i've written/planned a couple more prompt fills in this AU, so on AO3 this will be a bit of a series-within-a-series sort of deal. 
> 
> [here's the original fill on my tumblr](https://eliottamoureux.tumblr.com/post/187201639842/1113-for-some-tension), if you'd prefer to read it there! you can also send me prompts of your own, or anything else if you're feeling chatty!

It was one thing to see Eliott outfitted in his robes for the Grand Ball.

This was an annual event, and they had been seeing each other just as frequently, if not more, ever since they could walk. The alliance between their two kingdoms was generations deep, and so when they celebrated, they did so together. And, _naturally_, when Eliott came down the staircase, his walk so graceful that he was nearly _floating_, Lucas’ breath caught in his throat. His robes were woven from the finest silk and they hugged him in all the right places. They drift down the stairs behind him, and his smile lights up the entire room. Lucas can hear others go silent as well, entranced by his beauty, and he really can’t blame them.

Eliott isn’t called the greatest beauty of the six realms for nothing, after all.

Eliott smiles at everyone as he makes his descent, but it changes when his eyes meet Lucas’. There’s a subtle shift, his smile morphing into something that is private— special, even. It is there one moment and gone the next, but Lucas will be damned if it doesn’t make the floor fall out from under his feet. Eliott makes his rounds and Lucas follows him with his eyes the entire time.

And then, as if after an eternity, Lucas can see him approach. His smile shifts _just_ so, once again, and then Eliott is pressing a kiss to his cheek in greeting.

“Lucas,” He says, pulling back, and Lucas has half a mind to follow him, to throw caution to the wind and let everyone in the ballroom see what they are, see _who_ they are, when they’re together. “It’s been too long, I’m charmed to see you again.”

Lucas has become greatly skilled in shoving down the human part of his brain and letting the princely part come forward.

“Eliott— likewise,” he says instead of _kiss me again_. “I trust your journey was acceptable?” He says instead of _and again, and again._

At this point, though, he knows that Eliott does the same. Has done the same for quite some time.

“Oh, more than. Our driver is just as skilled as ever.” The thing about Eliott, however, is that he speaks with his eyes— a language which Lucas is growing increasingly fluent in. And the words he sees there are _certainly_ not fit for a ball.

But that’s something they’ll talk about later.

“I’m glad to hear it.”

They spend the next little while chatting idly, and Lucas has to try with everything in him not to jump Eliott’s bones in the middle of everyone. It’s not lust that he feels for Eliott— not _only_, anyway— no, the ache that settles deep in his bones whenever Eliott leaves is something much more, something deeper. He wants to get him alone and whisper everything he wants to do to him, wet and hot in his ear, but he also wants to curl up together in his chambers until the sun of the early morning peeks through his blinds. He wants to take him out, to the greatest shows, to see the greatest sights. He wants to keep Eliott with him, keep him _safe_ and—

Eliott’s gaze goes beyond Lucas, for a moment, and he sighs.

“I must go, mother’s calling me to _mingle_,” Eliott’s tone gives away exactly how much he wants— or _doesn’t_ want— to go and converse with the various other royals present, scattered around the ballroom. He returns his focus to Lucas for a brief moment, though, and leans in close. “Save me a dance?” Once again, this moment is just for the two of them, a private moment between two men who care for each other, rather than surface-level small talk between two princes.

Lucas says, “Of course,” because who is he to refuse?

—

It was one thing to see Eliott outfitted in his robes, but it was a completely different matter to be seated next to him at the banquet table.

“Well this reunion certainly came sooner than expected.” Lucas says as Eliott’s seat is pulled out for him. In reality it’s barely been an hour since they had last spoken, but that’s an hour too long to be apart from Eliott, if you ask him. Lucas is sweating profusely under the multiple layers that he’s clothed in, but Eliott still looks just as perfect as he did when he first arrived— completely and utterly unfair.

“I was just thinking the same thing,” Eliott’s princely tone is back in full force, polite and aloof as the others seat themselves around them. “But not unwelcome..?” He asks, his tone shifting just so— and he looks almost… _Hopeful_? Part of Lucas wants to grab him, grab Eliott and kiss him until he can’t breathe, wants to show him how welcome it is, every time their eyes meet— how he loses his mind whenever they’re near each other.

“Of course it was welcome.” And then he leans in close, keeps his expression as neutral as he can, so not to attract attention as he whispers, “I thought I made that very clear, the last time I visited you…?” He _hears_ the way Eliott gulps more than he sees it, as he pulls back into his own space.

“Indeed you did.”

“Good.” _If you need, I’ll do it agai_n, he almost says, but doesn’t. _And again, and again_. Lucas reaches for his goblet of wine at the same time as Eliott does, and their hands jump back simultaneously.

“Sorry,” Eliott says, “I believe that one’s yours, actually.” Lucas gets a devilish idea.

“No, no, by all means.” Lucas gestures toward the goblet, and Eliott takes a drink from it. Lucas watches the way his adam’s apple bobs, and then the goblet is set back down, right where it was before. Lucas waits for a moment, makes sure no one at the table is watching them, and then he takes the same cup. He makes sure Eliott is watching, though, as he takes a long swig, making sure to place his lips exactly where Eliott’s had been only a moment ago. Lucas sighs in contentment as he drinks, looks over and sees Eliott’s mouth agape as he watches him, unblinking. 

He then puts the goblet back, picks up his silverware, and continues with his dinner as if nothing had happened.

—

The feast comes and goes without a hitch, and then the guests are dispersing before they know it. Some of them are preparing to leave tonight, and some are staying overnight.

Eliott— _thank the stars_— is one of the latter.

As far as visitors go, he’s a bit of a regular. For any big event such as this, he seems to be able to convince his parents to let him stay for at least a night, sometimes more. When Lucas visits, he does the same. Lucas really isn’t sure how he does it— he suspects some sort of magic, though even his kingdom’s most skilled scientists haven’t discovered anything of the sort.

It had started off innocuous enough, their sleepovers. Their parents had done the same thing when they were young. It helped to grow their alliance into a bond, and both kingdoms had the deepest faith that their respective princes would be taken care of whenever they visited. At first they stayed in the guest chambers, two beds in one grand room. After the first few times, though, they had asked to sleep in Lucas’ bedroom, and the Queen had been nothing but supportive.

And then they would spend their nights next to each other. They would talk about their lessons, their parents, the stars— everything and anything, into the wee hours of the morning. Eliott would tell him about the blossoming young princess that his parents were insisting that he get to know better, but Lucas would be too taken by the glow of his eyes in the low light to pay much attention.

When Lucas was seventeen— and Eliott, nineteen— though, something changed.

Something changed, and their childhood sleepovers turned into, well… _This._

Lucas hisses as his back thuds against the wall, and Eliott swallows the sound quickly. They’re in the corridor just outside of Lucas’ chambers. Lucas was trying to be patient, was trying to wait until they got in his room, but when Eliott had yanked him back, he certainly didn’t complain. 

His corridor is nearly as private, anyway.

“Hello to you too,” Lucas jokes, and Eliott scoffs before crushing their lips together once more.

“Shut _up_,” His words are harsh but his tone is gentle, so gentle. Lucas doesn’t realize just how much he’s missed this voice, this face, this man. And then Eliott, as if sensing Lucas’ thoughts, says— “I’ve missed you. Gods, how I’ve missed you,”

“I know the feeling. Words really cannot do the ache justice.” His chest is hollow, when they’re apart. It’s as if Eliott takes Lucas’ heart with him when he leaves, as if he keeps it with him when Lucas leaves for his own home.

“Do you know how incredible you look tonight?” Eliott asks. Lucas certainly doesn’t— the only thing he knows for certain is that he is, without a doubt, the sweatiest person in this entire castle. _Request less layers next time_, he makes a mental note to his seamstress. But the way Eliott looks at him makes him feel incredible, makes him feel _beautiful_, like he wants to bask in it.

“Not half as incredible as you.” Half of Lucas wants to make a joke about his title, about him being the _greatest beauty of the six realms_, but he doesn’t. He remembers the conversation they had, when they were a little bit younger, a little bit more hesitant with their hands and their words. 

_I hate it, when people call me that,_ Eliott once said,_ because I never feel it. And sometimes I don’t want to be anything except Eliott._ Lucas had kissed him then, quick and soft.

_Then I won’t,_ Lucas once replied, and then— _Thank you for telling me._

_Of course I would tell you_, Eliott kissed him, then. _You’re the only person that makes me feel like myself._

“I would argue,” Eliott interrupts himself by pressing kisses along Lucas’ neck, making him gasp and groan. It’s as if he can’t control himself, and that just makes Lucas flush an even deeper red. “If I weren’t about to rip every single article of clothing off of you.” Even through the quickly settling haze over Lucas’ senses, he has enough lucidity to scoff. Eliott pulls away, but only slightly. “No, but really, green is _definitely_ your colour.” And then he’s back on Lucas’ neck, as if he had never left. It’s been so long that when Eliott sucks at the skin in_ just _the right spot, Lucas throws his head back and moans. “I had to use everything in me to keep from whisking you away all night.” The image of it makes him shiver. Not only him and Eliott whisking one another away, but the idea of them being able to do such a thing without sneaking around, being able to do such a thing in front of people.

Maybe someday.

And, in any case—

“Now I’m whisked,” Lucas says, flipping them around, pinning Eliott to the wall, reveling in the way Eliott gasps in surprise. “And we’re alone, just you and me.” If he thought that he was sensitive after so long apart, he certainly wasn’t prepared for the full-blown _whimpe_r that bubbles up from Eliott’s throat as he whispers right into his ear— “Gods, Eliott, I want you.”

“You have me.” Eliott breathes out as Lucas noses along his jawline, inhaling his scent. “You have me all night, and all morning, and for every day that follows.” Eliott’s hugging him closer, gently but nonetheless, and Lucas’ heart is fit to burst. Because Eliott is _here_, and he is _here_, and they’re _together_, and—

_And_—

“I love you.” _I love you more than anything. My soul is yours, I trust you to care for it, _he wants to say. But it’s Eliott, and so Lucas doesn’t have to. They have a language of their own, and Eliott has never had trouble understanding his unspoken words.

“And _I_ love _you_.” Eliott says, and Lucas knows, he knows, but hearing it still makes him warm all over, makes him want to duck his head down to hide his blush.

Sort of like Eliott is, right now.

Lucas is confused, momentarily. Eliott doesn’t typically have trouble voicing his affections, Lucas is the one that does things like this. But then, answering Lucas’ question before he even has the chance to ask it, Eliott says, “I’m not going to last, Lucas, p_lease_.”

And then they’re laughing, light and airy and in _love_, as they travel the rest of the way down the corridor. 


End file.
